Always There
by An Ordinary Riceball
Summary: Something was wrong, he was sure. Where was France? Why hadn't he arrived yet? Nobody had heard from him for about a month. Even though he tended to play around quite often, England had to admit that France was very diligent in his duties, when he had to be. France would never miss a meeting. Very light FrUk, which can even be considered as a close Friendship. Cutting. T 2 b safe.


**Story: ****_Always There  
_****Summary: ****_Something was wrong, he was sure. Where was France? Why hadn't he arrived yet? Nobody had heard from him for about a month. Even though he tended to play around quite often, England had to admit that France was very diligent in his duties, when he had to be. France would never miss a meeting. Very light FrUk, which can even be considered as a deep Friendship.  
_**_**Warning: Topics of cutting, and Self-harm used in this. No likey. No readey; Simple as that :P  
**_**Disclaimer: ****_I don't own Hetalia._**

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Something was wrong, he was sure. Where was France? Why hadn't he arrived yet? Nobody had heard from him for about a month. Even though he tended to play around quite often, England had to admit that France was very diligent in his duties, when he _had_ to be. He would _never_ miss a world meeting like this.

The Brit looked back over at the door, for the third time that day.

"Where the bloody hell is that stupid frog?" He wondered, aloud.

"Mi amigo, is something the matter~?" he looked to see both Spain and Prussia standing there. Spain offered him a small, but cheery smile, and for once, Prussia actually had a look of concern on his face; one of which he'd never seen on the German.

"Spain, have you seen France lately?" he wanted to know, averting his gaze.

"No." Spain shook his head, his eyes slightly downcast. "Lo siento... I haven't been able to get up with him..."

"H-hey, what are you two getting so depressed for?" Prussia demanded. "I'm sure he'll be here soon. After all, if he doesn't, the Awesome Me wi-Hey!"

"Prussia, I told you to stay seated." Germany said, grabbing his arm.

"But, WEEEEST!" Prussia whined, being dragged back to the seat next to his brother.

And that's when, to everyone's surprise, France came in. However, he looked different than normal. Not that he was wearing different clothes than he normally wore, but he seemed a little pale, and his silky blonde hair, compared to the last time they saw him, appeared to be fairly dull and unkempt.

England briefly stared, bemused. If there was _anything_ France was the most self-conscious about, it was _definitely_ his hair.

"France, what happened to you?" England asked, raising an eyebrow. "Why have you not been coming to the last few meetings?! And why the bloody hell aren't you answering anybody's calls?!"

"Oh, Angleterre, I've just been having personal issues. Sorry for any worry I may have caused any of you~" France looked up at him, giving a smile, and a wink. There was something not right with it, though. England couldn't help but wonder if there was more problems to this than what France was letting on.

"I see..." England grumbled, before once again facing the conference table, no longer paying attention to his surroundings. After a while, Germany finally managed to silence the room, concluding the beginning of the meeting.

As he sat there, England couldn't seem to focused on what was being said at the moment, when he suddenly heard a whispered curse, which he could easily locate as being France's.

Reluctantly, he looked over to see what had the frog cursing of all things. However, when he followed the older nation's gaze, he immediately stiffened, partially wishing he had just minded his own business.

Despite France's attempt to hide what he was doing, he still got a glance of it. Covering France's wrist, or rather what he could see of it, were numerous cuts, slashes, and scars, big and small, as he just appeared to be examining them.

Forcing himself to look away, he found himself unable to believe what he'd just seen.

_Could France have been...cutting?_

_Could The 'Nation of Love', as he'd put it, be purposely tearing up his own body?_

_Had the always pessimistic and flirtatious country... actually given up on himself, and resorted to something such as _that.

He couldn't accept it as the truth. England _wouldn't_. He refused to believe that, out of all the nations there were, it was _France_ who would...be self-harming.

Bloody hell, he couldn't be like that! He was constantly smiling. He was always positive about himself. He was proud, and more importantly, he knew he had people who cared, and people that he could rely on..._didn't he...?_

He suddenly recalled all the times France and he always got into arguments, and how, despite that, France was always there when he truly needed him most, but how many times had he, _himself_, actually _helped_ _France_?

_Never._ All he could ever seem to do was throw countless insults at the frog, even when the Frenchman's intentions were really innocent down deep.

"Does anyone have any questions or comments?" England looked up, as Germany's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Germany scanned the room for any responses, before closing his eyes with a sigh of relief. "Everyone is free to leave."

"Sweet, it's finally over!" America grinned, jumping up from his chair, causing England to send one of his 'death glares' to the oblivious American for being so loud.

America glanced at his 'almost-twin' brother, following his worried gaze to France. "Hey, dude, Canada, Let's go get something to eat, I'm starved, dude!"

_**(I'm sorry, but to ME Canada and America do look a lot alike, but I can still EASILY tell the difference.)**_

Canada took one last look at France, before being pulled out the room.

After all the other nations had got and left, France and England were the only ones remaining.

"Hey, France." France had got his bag and was about to leave the room, but stopped, slightly startled when hearing his name.

"Oh, Angleterre. Sorry, I didn't even know you were still here." he gave a soft smile, turning to face him.

England swallowed, averting his gaze. "...Why?"

"Hm?" France looked at him confused. Irritation immediately boiled in the Brit.

"Why are you pretending to be happy?!" England demanded. France was taken aback by his tone. His eyes faltered, before he smiled once again, but this time it was a sad one, and for a split second, it looked as though tears were about to fall.

"You shouldn't worry about me, you know...? I'm big brother France, after all, non...?" he was about to turn to leave again, when an arm grabbed his hand, prevent him from leaving.

"Like bloody _hell_ I shouldn't worry!" England retorted, forcing France to turn toward him. However, he only looked away again, when England began pushing up his blue sleeve to reveal too many scars, and open cuts, to even count. "I want to know why are doing this to yourself?!"

France said nothing. England waited, but received no answer.

_Maybe I should tell him...how I'm feeling. If I keep this bottled up, everything will only hurt worse._

"...A few months ago, I was left to myself and I started to think back... At first it was about harmless things; _good_ things, but I didn't intend to find myself wallowing in the past, and suddenly, I started crying, and before I knew it, I couldn't stop. Everything hurts so much, Angleterre..."

At first England didn't really know how to react when France began to softly cry over the Brit's shoulder. After a moment he halfheartedly smirked, sighing, as he slowly reached up, gently wrapping his arms around the Frenchman. "Well, it's alright now. I'm here for you, you frog, and I've _always been here._ America and Canada, too, so stop this, already."

Francis very briefly stiffened, before a genuine and _true_ smile graced his lips, as tears of happiness now streamed down his cheeks.

_Yes, there were people who were there for him, had always been there for him, and WOULD always be there for him. Especially this stubborn Brit, who happened to know him, in someways, better than anyone else. At least he wasn't alone._

_~ End of Story_

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**A/N: ****_Wait, what...? What have I written...? Sorry, I really have nothing to say. BWAHAHAHA!_**


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